


The Captive Daughter

by Gamma_Orionis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: rarewomen, Family, Family Drama, Gen, Wordcount: 1000-2000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamma_Orionis/pseuds/Gamma_Orionis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rowena does what she can to protect Helena, but to Helena, it seems less like protection and more like tyranny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Captive Daughter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anticyclone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticyclone/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this, anticyclone! I was thrilled for an opportunity to write about Helena Ravenclaw, and especially about the dynamic between her and her mother. I hope it suits your tastes ♥

Helena sat in the room allocated to discussions of the school and stared out the window with glassy eyes.  The lake outside glittered silver in the greying evening light. 

Everything was grey.

Helena had memories of being a young child and frolicking in lush, green fields.  Now, nearing the age of twenty, such memories were far distant, and she tried to ignore them, for the feeling of freedom that her heart recalled only enforced the awareness of her captivity now.  She rested her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table.  Her mother’s voice and Helga’s blurred together in her mind. 

If her mother had only been an _ordinary_ woman, Helena wouldn’t be here, out on this Godforsaken rock, with only people twice her age for company.  She would have been so happy to stay in Glen, where she had had so many friends, girls who admired her and men eager to have her hand in marriage.  Her mother had forbidden her from consorting with the students, and so she spent most of her days sitting in the staff room.  It was the only place in the castle where she could be sure that she would not run into any situations that her mother wouldn’t approve of.

Helga was saying something about the importance of fostering unity between the houses.  It was a conversation that Helena had heard so many times that it dizzied her: Helga wanted competition between houses to be eliminated, Rowena wanted the competition to remain in a friendly manor, and Godric and Salazar were eager to make the competition as intense as possible.   Helena had had to sit through so many discussions of it, and listen to the points made by each side so many times that she could practically recite every argument.  Helga would say that they should trust their students to work hard without the bribe of winning.  Rowena would say that people worked better when there was a reward at stake, but that they should take care to never let winning become so important that the desire to win should overtake civility.  And Godric and Salazar would sing the praises of healthy competition, and tell the women that they were being overly cautious, and then the discussion would end with no conclusion reached and no change in their opinions.

Helena wished that they would just leave the subject alone so she needn’t listen to them talking about it anymore, but if they did stop discussing it, they would no doubt find some subject even more tedious and divisive to expend their time and energy upon.  At least discussing competition meant that Helena didn’t have to listen to Salazar’s ill-fated diatribes on the importance of Blood Purity – that was an infinitely more unpleasant subject.  At least discussion of the importance of competition between the Hogwarts Houses did not call into question anyone’s most deeply held beliefs the way that the possibility of only accepting Pureblood students did.  Helena shuddered a bit, simply thinking about the look that Salazar took on when he was speaking on the subjects.  He was a good man ordinarily, a polite and restrained man, but he became altogether frightening when trying to convince them not to allow Muggle-born students in.

Helena stood abruptly, startling both her mother and Helga, who both seemed to have quite forgotten her presence.

“Where are you going?” Rowena asked sharply, when Helena moved towards the door.  “Students will still be out of bed–”

“They aren’t going to _hurt_ me, Mother!”  Helena sighed with exasperation.  She could not for her life see why her mother so deeply feared her consorting with the other students.  They were closer to her age than any of the people who she _was_ permitted to speak to, and it seemed to Helena when she was feeling sullen that her mother must be purposefully cutting off all connections between her and potential friends.  Had Rowena not joined with Helga and Godric and Salazar and set about building the school, Helena suspected that she would be in a nunnery now. 

She would have thought that her mother would take the opportunity of her living in the school to enrich Helena’s education in every way possible.  When they had lived in Glen, Rowena had constantly lamented the poor education available for young women, Muggles or Witches.  She had said often that she wanted her daughter to be educated as fully as any man.  And yet, here they were in the first true Magical school in all of Britain, and Helena was not allowed to attend classes.  She had books at her disposal, but she was allowed to read them only in the sanctity of the professors’ room or her own bedchamber.

“You don’t know anything about any of them,” Rowena said, and Helena could tell that she was struggling to keep her voice from showing any emotion.

“Because I am never allowed to speak to them.”  Helena considered stamping her foot like a child denied her way, but she didn’t.  She stood straight and tall and lifted her chin, looking her mother dead in the eye.  “They will not do anything to me.  I am your daughter.  And besides, they shan’t notice me – it isn’t as though I’ll be drawing much attention to myself, just walking to my bedroom while there are other people out–”

“I believe Helena is growing bored with our company,” Helga said.  She sounded jovial, but her face was a bit drawn and she looked tense.  Always so empathetic, Helga could sense the anger bubbling between mother and daughter.  “I can take her to her room, Rowena, if you are concerned for her safety.”

Helena wanted to scoff.  What concern could her mother have for her safety?  Helena could look after herself – she was a Witch, she had a good command of all the magic she had been taught and all that she had learned herself.  She had no doubt that she could best any student in a fight if they were to start one, and why should they start one?

“Do, Helga, do.”  Rowena pressed her lips tightly together and turned away, and Helga stood and moved swiftly to Helena’s side.

“Come now, dear,” she said, taking her hand and leading her out.

Helena let out a sigh when they were out of earshot of the staff room.  “You needn’t be here.  I think I can walk a few corridors to my bedroom without getting myself into trouble.”

“Your mother worries,” Helga said mildly.  “She wants you to be safe always, and she believes there are dangers here.”

“Then why did she bring me here?”  Helena was aware that she sounded silly and sulky, but she had asked herself so many times why she had been brought to Hogwarts – where she had no desire to be – if her mother was so concerned for her safety here.  The words spilled out before she could stop them, and Helga listened with a patient ear.  “I could be back in Glen, married and raising children, if she had never brought me here.  Or I could be an accomplished Witch if she would only let me try!”

“I have no doubt that you could.  You are a very talented young woman.”  Helga smiled, her cheeks crinkling around her kindly eyes.  “But your mother wishes for you to be brought up safely–”

“ _Cloistered_ , like a nun!  My mother said that it was foolish for those women to give up their lives – why am I expected to?”

Helga said nothing to that, and Helena felt a little twinge of guilt.  She didn’t mean to snap at Helga, who was by far her favourite of the four people with whom she was allowed to talk. 

“I apologize.”

“There’s no need,” Helga said, and she sounded thoughtful now.  “Your mother has her reasons for how she behaves towards you, though I know that to you, it must seem as if she doesn’t.”

“It certainly does seem that way.”

Helga hesitated.  Her eyes were darting back and forth, and it seemed very like she was searching for words, or trying to decide whether to say something.  At last she said, “Helena, dear girl, your mother asked me not to tell you, but I think it would be for the best…”

“What?”  Helena was suddenly alert with curiosity.  Secrets fascinated her, especially secrets that pertained to her mother, who seemed at times to be one big secret, wrapped up in thousands of little lies.  “What is it?”

“Your mother,” Helga said slowly, choosing every word with the greatest care and precision, “as you know, has the greatest interest and faith in divination…”

“I know.”  Helena could not possibly see what this had to do with anything.  Divination was a part of her mother as much as books or the colour blue were – it was simply something that was always around her.  She had seen Rowena with a crystal or a cup of tea leaves or a star chart more times than she could count, but never had she indicated that she had found anything of interest or consequence in her divining.

“In the early days of the school,” Helga said, “she was constantly at her divining, trying to foresee the fate of the school, and of us.  None of us thought that there could be any harm in it – it is always better to know what will come, rather than face it blindly, don’t you agree?”

Helena nodded, impatient with this information – she wanted to know what this had to do with her.

“She told me that she saw something of you.”  Helga pressed her lips together, looking uncertain.  “Some danger that would befall you – something pertaining to a student here.  It frightened her, my dear.”

Helena snorted, even as she felt a small knot form in her stomach.  “She has said so many times that the signals are mutable.  Why is she fussing over this when she could be wrong?”

“Because she loves you dearly, Helena.”  There was no doubt in Helga’s voice when she said that, none at all.  “She would be heartbroken if anything befell you, no matter that it sometimes seems that she feels nothing for you.”

Helena looked down.  Was it that easy for Helga to see what she was feeling?

“For my sake, Helena, for all our sakes…”  Helga reached out and put one hand on Helena’s cheek, turning her to face her.  “Let your mother fuss over you.  It will be easier for us all if she feels that she is doing her job of protecting you – far worse if she believes she isn’t.  If she thinks that she is not protecting you, and something befalls you… it would destroy her, Helena, it would.”

Helena knew not what to say to that.  She looked at the stones behind Helga’s shoulder to avoid meeting her eyes.

“Go to bed, dearest,” Helga said at last.  “And think on this.  Think about what you are willing to do to maintain peace with your mother.”

“I will,” Helena said, stepping away from her and saying nothing more as she headed briskly for her bedroom.  But she was thinking as she walked of what she would be willing to do, and the more she considered it, the more she thought that she already knew exactly what she would do for the sake of peace with her mother.

_Nothing._

)O(

_Fin_


End file.
